


a ghost story

by mischiefmismanaged



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, and then lovers to enemies :/, not totally canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 11:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30021156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischiefmismanaged/pseuds/mischiefmismanaged
Summary: In 1993, Eleanor Owens returns to Hogwarts to take on the position of the new Muggle Studies professor while being tasked to keep an eye on Harry Potter, whose life is at threat once again with Sirius Black on the loose. She is quickly plagued by memories of her past, triggered by the presence of her two old classmates, Severus Snape and Remus Lupin. She is forced to unravel issues that she thought she had left behind years ago, returning to memories of being a teenager caught between her love for her friends and her love for the outcasted, troubled Severus. She hopes that they can overcome the ways that they betrayed each other in the past so that they can love one another once again.*This story goes back and forth from 1993 to the 70’s, with the main character being a part of the Marauders. There’s lots of angst and melodrama with a primary focus on her relationship with Severus, but it also explores a relationship with Sirius as a part of her past.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	a ghost story

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to anyone who happens to read this : )  
> allow me to indulge my love for sad stories with this one. this includes the prologue and chapter 1.

**Prologue**

“ _Sectumsempra_!”

It all happened very fast, from what she could remember. At the sound of the unknown curse and the flash of green light, she watched Sirius Black fall to the ground in pain. She clutched the pillar that she was hiding behind as she peered from the side to get a better understanding of what was happening.

The first thing she saw was blood. There was something about the depth of its color, the way it looked under the moonlight. It was the one thing that stayed firmly in her mind years later, soaking through his white shirt and covering his torso. The gasps of pain he made did not leave her, either. In the moment, she had no idea what to do to help him.

She watched the dark-haired assailant as he ran towards his victim, falling to his knees in a panic. There was a look on his face that she had never seen before… fear. His hand was shaking as he gripped his wand, pointing it towards the gashes that covered Sirius. He began to speak a spell over and over, his voice low and deep… careful. As he spoke, the wounds seemed to heal, and Sirius stopped his pained noises.

“ _Vulnera Sanentur.”_

Her mind was barely working, trying to process everything she had just seen. It was her body that seemed to take control, her legs beginning to move without telling them. Suddenly, she was running in the opposite direction, unable to look back.

It was the last time she saw him for many years.

She would come to hear about him every now and then in those few years, however. News of his whereabouts and crimes were scarce; Voldemort kept him close at all times, his loyal servant. Members of the Order were well aware of his wizarding power, which only made them more focused on tracking him.

She remembers the day Dumbledore called that emergency meeting. Of course, even the best efforts of the “ _Half-Blood Prince_ ” never kept Lily and James Potter alive, though they helped save the life of their newborn son.

The days following the fall of Voldemort were darkened to those in the Order by the loss of their comrades, and the question what was to come of Harry Potter hung in the air like a thick fog. With his godfather in Azkaban for his crimes, everyone knew that Dumbledore was in charge of deciding the boy’s fate, along with that of the other survivor, Severus Snape.

**Chapter One:**

_September 1, 1993_

It was no small feat, returning to Hogwarts. The sight of the castle, which once dazzled and amazed Eleanor, now haunted her. In her mind, it was a place full of a million different realities, made up of some of her best and her worst memories throughout life, things she was never able to make herself forget.

“Here are your personal chambers, my dear.”

Minerva spoke quietly but firmly, with a tight-lipped smile as she led Eleanor through a thick stone door. The room was spacious but lacking a certain kind of comfort that she had hoped to find. There was an empty fireplace, a sofa set accompanied by an old wooden coffee table, and, of course, a large four-poster bed that reminded her of her time as a student.

Eleanor took a seat at the end of the bed as she regarded the room in silence. Minerva watched from the doorway, her hands folded at her front.

“Fifteen years,” Eleanor spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

There was a quiet noise from Minerva, an exhale of breath, as she moved closer to her former student.

“Sometimes, it feels like it was just yesterday. Though, most days it feels as though half a century has passed. Isn’t that odd?”

“Time is a tricky thing,” Minerva remarked with a sense of absolution, and they fell silent once more.

Across the room, rain pattered against a window as it came down in thick sheets, and the sound of thunder shook the room. _Of course, it would rain my first day here_ , Eleanor thought to herself. _Some sort of bad omen._

Minerva finally broke the silence, clearing her throat gently. “You’re much quieter than you were as a student, Eleanor.”

This made her smile. “Maybe I’ve calmed down over the years.”

“I still see the Gryffindor fire in you,” Minerva responded, her lips turning up into a small smirk as well, if only for a moment. “It’s incredibly brave what you’re doing, you know. Returning here, after all this time… Putting yourself at risk once again.”

“Well,” Eleanor mumbled, appreciating the praise from the professor she had always respected so much. “What would these kids do without a Muggle Studies professor?”

Minerva smiled in return, but they both knew that that wasn’t her only reason for returning. “As you can imagine, he doesn’t have much interest in taking the class. I suppose he got enough of it his first eleven years of life.”

“The worst kind of muggle studies, I’ve heard.”

The older witch shook her head indignantly. “You’ve heard correctly. I would love to head over to Little Whinging and give that family a piece of my mind.”

Eleanor crossed her arms over her chest, a habit that had carried on from her adolescence. Talking about Harry made her anxious and overwhelmed, as her mind filled with images of his parents. “If only he had a godfather to take care of him.”

The bitter tinge of her words was more than noticeable, and Minerva seemed to stiffen at the mention of Sirius Black. Of course, she wouldn’t want to get into _that_ issue. No one ever did. It was too awful to talk about, even after all this time.

“Sorry,” Eleanor said quickly, shaking her head as she silently admonished herself. “It’s just… I’ve spent these past few years around muggles. I haven’t exactly had anyone to talk about these things with.”

The older witch just nodded gently. “I understand. I’m afraid I’ve nothing to say on the matter. Of course…if you hear anything about his whereabouts, it is imperative to follow the lead and let us know immediately. We cannot afford to let him get his hands on Harry.”

Just hearing that name out loud caused a dull pain in Eleanor’s chest. It coupled poorly with the shame she felt by the fact that Minerva felt it necessary to remind her of these facts. It was as though she was suddenly fifteen years old again, sitting in her office receiving a lecture for poor behavior. It was a warning, not a friendly reminder.

Minerva cleared her throat one last time. “I must be going now. I have to meet the first years at the entrance and guide them to the feast.”

_Shit._ Eleanor felt her heart begin to race, a painfully familiar feeling. Minerva was already turned around and headed for the door by the time Eleanor asked her question, voice barely above a whisper.

“Do I have to go?”

She stopped in the doorway and looked back at the younger woman, eyes full of pity. “It won’t be that bad. You’ve survived much worse, remember?”

* * *

Working at Hogwarts wasn’t exactly her first choice of a job, especially as a Muggle Studies Professor. It’s not as though she wasn’t qualified for the position, but it wasn’t an excited passion of hers after having grown up in the muggle world for so long. The placement of Eleanor as the new professor was not a coincidence, and she had a feeling that she wasn’t the only one to receive a visit from Albus the summer of 1993.

After the fall of Voldemort that night in Godric’s Hollow, Eleanor assumed that her time in the Order was nearly over. The remaining work would be too round up the remaining Deatheaters and charge them for their crimes. Most of that work was to be done by aurors and the Wizengamot, though she offered her help for as much as she could.

She decided to move away for a while, find some clarity from a fresh start. This led her to Boston, living amongst the “no-maj” for a few years. An old friend of her father’s helped her find a crummy little job and an even crummier little apartment. It was a perfect escape, regardless. No one around who knew anything about her past, no one to pester her with their probing, unanswerable questions.

She had been shocked, to say the least, when Dumbledore showed up at her doorstep one August morning. Of course, she greeted him with open arms and showed him inside. It felt terribly odd to see him after all that time away. It made her feel almost guilty.

“You’ve no doubt heard about Harry Potter’s rather eventful first two years at Hogwarts,” he began, settling into her cheap little sofa.

Eleanor sighed, sitting down beside him. “I’ve gotten a few letters on the subject.”

“No one is particularly keen to admit it, but the threat of his return lingers, Eleanor. Harry Potter’s life will be at risk once more.”

His voice was bereft of its usual twinkle of mystery, whimsy… hope. He appeared helplessly serious, keeping a close eye on Eleanor’s reaction to his words. She offered him very little, however, by keeping silent.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m telling you all of this,” he continued, looking off to the distance at the street outside the apartment building. The sound of children playing in the street below could be heard through the open window.

“Our previous professor of Muggle Studies, Miss Charity Burbage, has resigned out of fear for her life. Which I cannot say is an unfounded fear.”

Eleanor understood completely. If he really was coming back, then supporting any kind of cooperation with, or affection to, muggles would be increasingly dangerous. Her stomach felt sick as she listened, predicting the favor that Dumbledore was getting ready to ask of her. It seemed as though he knew this, returning his gaze to her and leaning in closer.

“With Sirius Black on the loose, we need more eyes on Harry than ever. It wouldn’t hurt, either, to have someone who might provide insight on Black. You two were close back in the day, if I am not mistaken.”

Eleanor quickly jumped to her feet and walked to the other side of the room to pour herself a glass of water from a pitcher that was wet with condensation due to the balmy August weather. She lingered there for a moment, not wanting to return to Dumbledore’s heavy gaze.

“The only people who knew him better than you did are now either dead, in Azkaban, or completely untrustworthy.”

Finally, she decided to speak.

“What about Remus?”

Albus smiled gently. “I think you’ll find that he will busy with a different assignment.”

“What?” Eleanor responded. “You were able to get into contact with him? Is he okay? Where is he?”

“Don’t worry about all that now. Rest assured, you will be seeing Mr. Lupin in a short time. That is, if you take me up on my offer.”

She understood this, but she did not want to accept it. After her years in the resistance, however, she knew that life was not fair, and that she was destined to do things regardless of whether or not she _wanted_ to.

“What makes you think I’d even be a good professor, Albus?”

“Well,” he began, standing up from his spot. “As things get worse, Muggle Studies will become a subject that needs special attention. We need someone who can inspire her students to see the value in those without wizarding blood. I seem to remember a young Gryffindor who taught her friends all about the muggle world, even when they were resistant.”

Eleanor hated the way he always knew exactly which buttons to press to make someone do what he wanted. Just the statement alone was bringing back memories, things she had tried so hard to not think about for the past thirteen years.

She stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, though the nearby clock revealed that it had only been a couple minutes. When she did finally speak, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Is he still there?”

He seemed to let out a small sigh. “If you’re referring to our Potions Master, then yes. Severus will remain at the school for quite some time.”

For a moment, Eleanor wondered how he could have known exactly who she was talking about. It didn’t take long for her to remember that Albus must have known—to some extent—the particulars of their history together. He had performed leglimancy on her several times in the past, in the few moments when she had to go the extra step to prove herself to be genuine to the cause of the Order.

“If you do this, you could be a light in dark times for many students… students who may otherwise not have anyone to help them through these difficulties. The right mentor in their life may have the ability to help them from making all the wrong choices.”

Dumbledore had a knack for forcing the end of a conversation. He wasn’t just trying to encourage her anymore; he was instead guilting her with the reminder of her previous failures. It was the cruelest thing he could have said in that moment, and he knew it.

Eleanor knew she had no more excuses to offer. If he was asking her to do something, she had to tell herself that it was the right thing to do.

* * *

_November 21, 1972_

_“No!”_

It was a firm answer, but somehow Eleanor already knew that it wasn’t going to go unchallenged. They were not people who liked to be told no, after all. It didn’t help any that she had a history of being persuaded by them.

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Owens. We need you!” Sirius exclaimed with a mischievous grin.

“I highly doubt that.”

James shook his head, beginning to laugh. “No, no, it’s true. You’re the best in our year at charms. I’m sure you could learn this one in no time.”

“Guys, I don’t know about this,” a meek voice interjected from behind Eleanor’s seat in the library.

“Peter, calm down,” Remus replied, patience wearing thin. “We’ll be fine.”

“I’m studying, which you should all be doing, too.”

Sirius scoffed. “I was watching you before we walked over here, you know,” he spoke, watching Eleanor’s eyes widen and her cheeks turn pink. “Yeah. We saw what you were _studying_.”

James leaned over the library table filled with books and parchment and rifled through a haphazard stack of books. “Ah, yes, here it is,” he declared smugly, pulling out a colorful magazine that stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the heavy textbooks.

“Guys!”

Remus joined in on their laughter. “No, we really should let her be. Wouldn’t want to interfere on her analysis of this year’s _Witch Weekly’s_ Most Charming Smile recipient.”

Beside him, Peter tried to hide his laughter.

“Alright, alright,” Eleanor groaned, trying to quiet them before someone complained. “I’ll help you, but I won’t promise anything will work. I’m really not _that_ good at charms.”

The rowdy boys took a seat at her table, all trying to explain their silly plan through disparate laughter.

“Remind me again why you feel it necessary to start trouble with the boys in Slytherin? Haven’t they got enough shite to deal with, you know, being Slytherin and all.”

Sirius chuckled at her playful jab.

“It’s just a bit of fun, is all,” James murmured.

“Not to mention,” Sirius interjected, his tone shifting to something serious. “That nasty Snivellus makes himself such an easy target for us.”

Eleanor didn’t like hearing that nickname. It made her pity the boy, even if she had never met him. She had just seen glimpses of him throughout the castle, always walking around with her dormmate Lily Evans.

Early in the semester, Eleanor had asked her about her Slytherin friend. She just wanted to learn more about the mysterious figure, especially after he was identified as a target by her group of friends. Lily had responded nicely, telling her about how they were friends before school, and how he was a really great person who taught her all about the wizarding world.

She got swept away into talking about him, someone who she obviously loved very much. It wasn’t clear if she even meant to mention that he came from a rather poor family, as it was just a fact peppered in a story about their hometown.

Eleanor hadn’t even realized she mentioned it, either, when she was telling her friends briefly about what she’d learned. She really wasn’t trying to give them information that they could bully him with. It was the opposite, actually. She thought if she told them more about who he was as a person it would encourage them to treat him with a little more respect and kindness.

Instead, it ended up with Sirius, James, and Peter making a series of quips about Severus’ secondhand textbooks and greasy hair.

_“Can’t even afford a bit of shampoo, Snivellus?”_

It was the first time that Eleanor found Lily furious with her, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last. She knew that it must have been her who told her friends all about the boy, unwittingly providing them with even more ammunition to use against the vulnerable first year.

Anytime Eleanor had tried to ask about him after that, the redhead would just let out an annoyed huff and ignore her. It was the closest thing to being mean that the girl could muster, Eleanor assumed.

She hated being on her bad side, especially since it seemed to turn their other dormmates—Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas—away from her, too. Eleanor wasn’t naturally a very social person, which left her to spend an increasing amount of time with her group of troublesome boys.

They had declared her one of their own, even joking about having her move in to their dorm instead, as they had an extra bed anyways. Then Peter would make some scared little comment about how that was against the rules, and Sirius would respond with some annoyed little retort.

She hated the idea of doing anything to further torment Severus (and Lily), but she didn’t want to be left alone with absolutely no friends, especially her first year as she dealt with the lonely pangs of homesickness. It made her ashamed when she thought about it too much, making her wonder if she wasn’t even a Gryffindor after all.

Sitting in the library, the five of them developed their plan to humiliate the boy that they called Snivellus, and Eleanor kept her mouth shut in cowardice as she did her best to learn the spell that they needed.

As dinner time neared, the boys were eager to get to the Great Hall, offering to help Eleanor put all her books away before they left. Wanting a few minutes to herself, she encouraged them to leave without her, reassuring them that she would catch up soon. They didn’t fight her on this, luckily.

She collected her stack of dusty books in her arms as she walked around the library trying to find the correct place to leave them. Weaving in and out of the rows of shelves, she noticed that most of the other students had already left for dinner as well.

It wasn’t until she entered a particular sectioned-off alcove of the expansive library that she ran into anyone. Severus Snape sat at a table by himself, reading a huge book with a deteriorating spine and weather-damaged pages. He had heard her coming, though, and his eyes met hers instantly as she rounded the corner to find him there.

There was a minute of silence between the two as Eleanor considered what she should say. Should she just apologize and run off? Should she introduce herself? Should she ask him what he was reading?

Should she apologize for what her friends had been doing to him all term?

He settled the dilemma for her by speaking first.

“I saw you with your friends. Stirring up new ways to make my life miserable?

Hearing the question felt like being slapped in the face. She knew she deserved it, too, which made it all that much worse.

“Severus, I-“

“Don’t you mean _Snivellus_?”

Eleanor felt her heart pounding her chest and her face turning red with shame. “Please, I don’t call you that.”

“Just let your friends do it, then?”

It was like talking to her guilty conscience, all the questions she asked herself when she went along with their little pranks. Suddenly, all of that emotion that she had been forced to stifle amongst her friends came out in tears.

Severus seemed taken off guard by the display. His bitter scowl began to unfold as it was replaced by a look of shock and worry.

Eleanor just pulled what was left of her remaining stack of books close to her chest and mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

She turned away before she could even gauge his reaction or wait for a response. Before she exited the library, she abandoned her stack of books on an empty table and ran out at an increasing speed, luckily not encountering the librarian.

Eleanor didn’t meet up with the boys at dinner that night as she had promised. She ran to her room and hid under the covers and sobbed to herself. It was the first time in the few months that she had been at Hogwarts, away from her home and everything she knew, that she allowed herself a moment to cry.

The pale face of the boy was burned in her mind, as he watched her break down in tears right in front of him. The image would stay with her for the rest of her life, she thought.

* * *

_September 1, 1993_

The moment she saw him, she felt her stop beating. It was replaced by a pounding in her brain, with the steady rhythm of a metronome. Her vision started to get blurry at the edges, and, for a moment, she was convinced that she was going to pass out then and there, before she even got a chance to take her seat.

That’s likely what would have happened had they made eye contact with one another. Fortunately, however, he kept his gaze solemnly off in the distance, not watching the new professor cross from the other side of the Great Hall.

Eleanor had a million thoughts running through her mind as she made her way through the throngs of excited students, reuniting with their friends after a long summer away. She felt a terrible pain when she noticed his pale skin and dark undereye bags. The man looked as though he hadn’t slept in days. His forlorn face was framed by his signature long black hair, which he kept only slightly shorter than he did in his adolescence, which Eleanor was happy to see.

She couldn’t stand there and stare at him forever, though. Her attention was quickly taken away by the call of her name by a voice that she knew well. She made her way to the High Table to find Remus Lupin waiting for her with a huge smile. Any last traces of anger that she felt towards him for disappearing after the end of the war left her immediately as he brought her in for a hug. Suddenly, she felt like a teenager again, engulfed in his safe and sturdy arms.

“Remus,” she murmured, her face pressed against his chest. She didn’t want to let go, but she knew that their display was already likely breaking professor decorum. Hopefully not too many students had noticed it.

He pulled away, still smiling down at his old friend. They looked at each other in silence, knowing that they both had countless things to tell one another but also being aware that this was neither the time nor the place.

The two remaining seats at the table were separated, one between Minerva and Hagrid, with the other between Severus and Flitwick. Remus seemed to notice the paleness of Eleanor’s face as she regarded the spot on the other side of the table.

“You sit here,” he mumbled, gesturing to his previous spot next to the transfiguration professor. “We’ll talk later, alright?”

Eleanor nodded, already hating the idea of being separated again, even if it was only by a few meters of space. Just as he began to turn away, he stopped in his tracks, calling for her attention once again.

“I saw him, on the train here,” he practically whispered, a small smile forming on his face. “He looks so much like James.”

With that, he turned away, leaving her breathless and with a small smile of her own. She took her seat, doing her best to make small talk with the professors beside her. Luckily, Hagrid had no shortage of things to say about the upcoming term and his excitement at his new placement.

The welcome feast dragged on for hours, though Eleanor found it fun to watch the first years get sorted. She always adored seeing their excited faces as they joined their house’s table for the first time, even when she was still a student herself.

Albus made his yearly welcome speech, identifying the three new additions to the staff that year. The Gryffindor table certainly seemed excited to have three previous members as their new professors, their house pride always staying strong.

Thoughts of Severus didn’t leave her at any point throughout the evening. Just knowing that he was so close, breathing the same air as her, made her chest ache. She needed to speak with him, learn more about what he had been doing the past twelve years, besides looking after Harry and teaching a bunch of kids how to make potions.

There was so much that they never got a chance to talk about, so many things that she demanded an explanation for. She imagined there were a few answers he wanted from her, as well. She knew he was terribly stubborn, though, and she wondered if he would even speak with her, of if he’d just go the entire year ignoring her existence.

As the feast came to a close and professors at the High Table dwindled one by one as they retired to their personal chambers for the evening, Eleanor kept her eyes on the other side of the table. Remus had left, leaving her with a note that requested she meet him at midnight.

She watched Severus stand up to leave, exiting through the Great Hall through a back door. Eleanor quickly followed, tossing a “goodnight” to Minerva and Hagrid. He walked fast through the dimly lit corridor, his black cloak billowing behind him.

She knew he could hear her eager footsteps following him, but he did not stop or turn away, likely knowing exactly who it was.

"Severus,” she spoke, her voice quiet but full of desperation.

He finally stopped, turning away slowly to face her. He could barely see the details of her face in the candlelight, but he couldn’t miss the tears forming in her eyes, a silent plea for him to say something, anything.

“I saw you with your friend,” he began, voice dangerously low and deep. “Stirring up new ways to make my life miserable?”


End file.
